Page 161 of The Seven Sisters
‘Goodbye, senhorita. I’m glad that all was resolved between you and Senhora Beatriz before it was too late.’
‘It’s all down to you, Yara. Beatriz is very lucky to have had you as a companion.’
‘And I her,’ Yara countered as I climbed into the car.
‘Please promise to let me know when . . .’ I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.
‘Of course. Now, you go off and live your life, senhorita. As perhaps you have learnt from your own family’s story, every moment of it is precious.’
*
Taking Yara at her word, back at the hotel I checked my emails with far more anticipation than usual. And managed a smile when I saw that Floriano had replied. Paris was wonderful, he said, but he needed an interpreter to help him with his bad French.
I have also discovered something you should see, Maia. Please let me know when you will be arriving.
I laughed to myself as I read this, for he wasn’t asking me whether Iwouldarrive, but when. I called down to the concierge and asked them to check whether there was availability on a flight from Rio to Paris, and they called up ten minutes later to tell me there was only room in the first-class cabin. I gulped as I heard the cost, but then agreed and asked them to book the seat. And felt Pa Salt, Beatriz and Bel cheering me on.
I then left the hotel and went deep into Ipanema, back to the market, and bought a number of ‘unsuitable’ dresses that the former Maia would have been horrified at. But this was the new Maia, who thought that, just maybe, she was loved by a man, and she wanted to please him and look her best.
No more hiding, I told myself firmly as I also purchased two pairs of shoes with a heel to them and walked along the road to a pharmacy to test out some scent, something I hadn’t worn for years. I then bought a new red lipstick.
That night, I went upstairs to the hotel roof terrace to catch a last glimpse of theCristoas the sun began to set. Sipping a glass of chilled white wine, I thanked Him and the heavens for bringing me back to myself.
And as I left Rio early the next morning with Pietro, I looked back at Him, high above me on Corcovado Mountain, feeling with a strange certainty that I’d be back in His embrace very soon.
50
‘Hello?’ said a familiar voice at the other end of the phone line.
‘Ma, it’s me, Maia.’
‘Maia! How are you,chérie? It seems an age since I heard from you last,’ Marina added with a hint of reproach in her voice.
‘Yes, I’m sorry I’ve been bad at keeping in touch, Ma. I was . . . busy,’ I said, trying not to giggle as a hand snaked up my naked stomach. ‘I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be home tomorrow around teatime. And that’ – I swallowed hard before I announced it – ‘I’ll be bringing a guest with me.’
‘Shall I make a room up in the house, or will she stay with you in the Pavilion?’
‘My guest will be staying with me at the Pavilion.’ I turned to Floriano and smiled.
‘Lovely,’ her bright voice answered. ‘Shall I have supper ready for you?’
‘No, please don’t worry. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know exactly what time we’ll need Christian to meet us.’
‘I’ll wait to hear from you. Goodbye,chérie.’
‘Goodbye.’ I replaced the receiver in its cradle on the bedside table and fell back into Floriano’s arms, wondering what on earth he would make of my childhood home.
‘You mustn’t be shocked, or think I’m grand or anything. It’s just the way my life has been,’ I explained.
‘Querida,’ he said as he pulled me into his arms, ‘I am fascinated to see how you live now. But always remember I know where you come from. Now, on our last day here in Paris, I’m taking you to see something very special.’
‘Do we have to go?’ I asked him, stretching my body languidly into his.
‘I think we should,’ said Floriano, ‘eventually . . .’
*
Two hours later we dressed, left the hotel and Floriano hailed a cab. He even managed to give the driver a coherent address in French.
